I tell you, mother, it's awful! You know it is! It is a queer thing for a brother to say, I suppose, but--but I _do_ love Anne.

All my life I've looked upon her as the finest thing in the world.

I've been mean and nasty and all that sort of thing and I'm always saying rotten things to her, but, darn it, I--I do love my pretty sister.

I ought to hate you, Anne, for this infernal thing you are determined to do--I ought to, do you understand, but I can't, I just can't.

It's the rottenest thing a girl can do, and you're doing it, I--oh, say, what's the matter with me?
Sniffling idiot! I say, where the devil _do_ you keep your pen ?" Wrathfully he jerked a pile of note paper and blotters off the desk, scattering them on the floor.